Loneliness and I had grown quite close over the years. We shared a bond that I had never shared with anyone else. When everything in life was spiraling out of control, loneliness was the one thing I could always count on.
Loneliness was my best fri...
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"The girl is already 16, Carol. She's not stupid!" My dad was yelling, it was 2 in the morning, I was scared. I was young, but he was right, I wasn't stupid. I knew that within the next fifteen minutes my dad would start hitting my mom, and I would have to stay up here, pretending to be asleep.
If I tried to stop it, he would beat her until I begged him to stop, then he would slap me around too. I only made it worse for her, so I tried my best to stay out of the way. I could have stood up for her. I could have done something, but I didn't.
Five minutes later, though, he wasn't yelling at her about money like he usually did. He was stomping up the stairs as quickly as he could manage, and I heard him stumble a few times. I could hear my mom begging him to just let me sleep, instead. "Shut up, woman, she needs to know." My dad hissed, turning the handle on my bedroom door.
"Get up, girl. I've got some news." He said, his speech slightly slurred. I pulled the blanket down from my head and sat up slowly, the light momentarily blinding me as he flipped the light switch quickly. "Wh-what is it?" I asked, trying to hold back a yawn.
"Sweetie, your father—" my mom started before my dad cut her off.
"I lost my job cause I accidentally killed some kid." He said, swaying against my door frame. I felt my eyes go wide. "You didn't do it on purpose, did you daddy?" I asked suddenly. I knew I shouldn't have asked, but the words spilled out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop them.
"The fuck did you just say?" My dad growled, his fists clenched at his side. "I said it was an accident, didn't I?" He took a step towards me.
"Maybe I'll just teach you a lesson about questioning me again, yeah?" My dad took another step towards me and I pulled the blankets closer to my chest. My mom reached out to grab his arm, "Grady, please..." she begged him, but her cries were drowned out by the sound of his palm slapping her cheek. She stumbled backwards and clutched her face, a few drops of blood trickled down her face to her jaw.
My dad turned to me again, grabbing my throat and bringing my face closer to his.
"This is my house, Emma June. You're my daughter. And you will not disrespect me again." He breathed into my face, the smell of whiskey was overpowering, and I started to feel dizzy. His hand gripped tighter around my throat as I gasped for air. "Next time, you won't ask questions. Now back to bed." He told me, and I watched him rear his hand back. The last thing I remembered that night was his heavy ring busting open the flesh on my own cheekbone before everything went black.
***
When I was 16, my friends from high school were throwing a party in the woods. Everyone from our class was going to be there, even a few of the seniors were going to be there.
"Come on, Emma, just tell your mama you're staying with me!" My best friend at the time, Clary was begging me. "It's not that easy, Clary, you know how strict my mama is." I told her.
